At the End of a Sentence
by Fayt of Fire
Summary: In a new world, Merlin teaches Arthur the value of life through death.


**I do not own Merlin, unfortunately.**

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><p><em>Ah, so <em>that_ is what a bullet feels like. How… uncomfortable._

Merlin laughed harshly to himself, feeling very much like the crazy old man he was.

Much too carefully, Merlin looked up and away from the weeping pinprick in his chest. Arthur was looking at him. Where had that smug look gone?

"I'm a bit of a coward, Arthur," Merlin said. "But I think now is a good time to tell you that I was the one who accidentally fed your pet goldfish to the cat last year." The sky began to fall.

There was a fair bit of noise around him then; a sort of cacophonic, grating, background thunder made of all sorts of loud and soft and sad and angry sounds. Somewhere to the right of Merlin's head – and just his head, as the rest of his body seemed to have floated off away from him – Gwen was clamoring about and creating the same bit of bother two cymbals next to a perfectly sound ear would make. About a mile – or was it a foot? – away from Merlin's kneecap, two supernaturally speedy men were approaching at an alarming rate; Merlin had to assume they were the only two bodyguards mad enough to protect a wizard, G. Waine and Lance. Too loyal, they were. Merlin made a note to himself to do a proper job of scaring them off the next time he woke, because right now he was finding it awfully difficult to maintain consciousness.

"Merlin, goddammit, I swear if you don't grow a pair and _wake up_ I will kill you myself!"

Arthur, ever the charming future company president; he _would_ be the only one with a bossy enough voice to keep Merlin from his much needed sleep, wouldn't he? Couldn't Arthur just give it a rest for once? But then, the weary wizard could not fault Arthur entirely for his loudness – it probably was Merlin's fault that the magic wasn't strong enough to protect them both.

_For just one, you see, is how magic can be made. Just one, in times dire, will magic only ever stay._

"MERLIN! WAKE UP YOU BLOODY PRAT! WAKE UP, NOW!"

"For God's sake, will you shut up?" Merlin hissed weakly, opening his hooded eyes slightly. A part of him knew that this was Arthur's way of cheering him on, but the rest of him wondered if Arthur realized that gunshot wounds tend to be fatal and no amount of "waking" will keep Merlin from his last dream, anyhow.

"Merlin, oh God, thank you; Merlin you have to keep talking to me, 'kay? Aw, shit, you've just got to keep your eyes open, alright? Merlin, you're going to be just fine, help's on the way, Dr. Gaius is coming and will be here any second now, and everything will be just-" Arthur choked. Clearing his throat, Arthur leaned in close to try again. "Why didn't you let the guards do their job, Merlin? I told you-"

"That those two oversized machete-men were just here to protect me, I know, I know. You know, this is sure to make for a very funny story in the future." Merlin grinned mischievously. He liked this banter; it was nice, maybe even sweet. At the very least, it was sweeter than the salty copper taste currently staking out his mouth right now. Merlin turned his face away from the blond bully next to him to spit out as much of that taste as he could. "Yuck," Merlin muttered hoarsely.

Arthur smiled wearily down at Merlin – whoa, since when had Merlin lay down? Merlin could _not_ remember that – and brushed away the black locks on Merlin's forehead. Someone yelled for the gurney… Dr. Gaius? How did Dr. Gaius get here? Oops, Dr. Gaius is speaking; better pay attention for once, Merlin wouldn't want to leave a bad memory behind for Dr. Gaius, after all.

"-the surgery is last resort," Dr. Gaius was saying soberly, his eyes serious. The trees started to spin, either because of the mention of surgery (which meant needles, and Merlin hated needles,) or because of the speed in which Merlin was moved into the dirty white-brown ambulance. "In this case, surgery may be the only resort, and I am afraid I can promise nothing."

Merlin decided that now would be a good time to zone out once again.

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><p>How silly. All this money would be wasted because of a piece of lead no larger than a ladybug. Not to mention, one of the eight trained gunmen who had first targeted Arthur was still on the run –<p>

Idiot! Merlin couldn't believe he forgot to tell Arthur that he hadn't managed to get all of them, that he had only taken seven down, that these gunmen were…

Never mind that now. Merlin was finding it hard to mind anything at all, his head was so feather-light. His arms were vanishing, his legs were vanishing, and he was missing almost every part of him as the scarlet life bled away. Time moved much too fast. Suddenly, Merlin was in a white room and the silence had crept away to make room for the ceaseless noise, once again. This noise was not the kind you heard, however; it was the kind you felt. And it felt…

Sad.

Gwen, Dr. Gaius, those two mammoth guards of Arthur, more and more people encroaching with their noise, but all Merlin needed was one.

"Arthur," Merlin coughed, and then he was beside him, as Merlin suspected he would be. Arthur remained much too loyal. "Arthur, I have to tell you-"

"Hush," Arthur raised his face. "Just rest now." His cheeks were wet, his eyes dark, and his skin was flushed that ridiculous pinkish color as if Arthur had lost his temper and just yelled for a straight hour – Merlin knew what that looked like; he had been the brunt of the scolding most of the time. Merlin giggled childishly.

Arthur smiled a tad too bitterly. "I'm glad you find your situation funny, _Mer_-lin. You'd think you might be slightly more serious in a hospital bed."

"No," Merlin said, and his blue eyes met Arthur's, as the sky meets the sea. "I find it funny that you think death must always be serious. It's not over yet."

"You can't keep making jokes-"

Merlin blinked. "You would know better than most how life is meant to be. You're a great man, and you will become a great president. I am not the ending of your story, nor am I the end of my own. My death is funny that way, is it not?" Merlin was surprised by how strong his voice seemed. Not too bad, for a dead man.

Someone, somewhere, began to sob, filling the air with more ugly noise.

"You can't leave me," Arthur begged, shoulders shaking. He grasped Merlin's hand desperately. "You _will_ be the end of my world, Merlin, you must know that. I can't- I can't even- I _order_ you to live for me."

"And I order _you_ to live for _me_!" Merlin replied teasingly, but his vision was fading fast and he knew he didn't have much left in him. More gently now, Merlin pulled Arthur's beautiful face in for one last kiss.

Softly, their lips parted, but neither moved away. "My death will complete no legend for the world to remember, Arthur; it will give the world no pause. It is simply a period at the end of a sentence." Grinning quietly, Merlin closed his eyes and sighed contentedly.

"And what a sentence it was, Arthur, and what a sentence it was."

And then there was silence.

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><p><strong>This is my first story, guys, so play nice.<strong>


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